not to us

There are men who compete to see which man can pull a jet plane the farthest distance.  That is strength.

There are swimmers who compete to see which swimmer can swim 15 miles the fastest.  It can take anywhere from five to ten hours to complete.  That is endurance.

But there is an athlete who must exhibit more strength and endurance than all others.  She is a mother.

Whether she's completing sets of twenty reps with a seven-pound newborn or lifting a 45 lb. four-year-old onto her lap after his feelings have been hurt, she is strong.

Whether she's chasing a toddler through the mall or standing her ground during a monumental tantrum, she can (and will) endure.

A mother has been given one of the most important responsibilities known to man:  She is expected to raise a child into a respectable individual.  She is both the first line of defense and the last one standing in the battle for her child's life and soul.  She is the first to answer for her decisions and the last to receive praise for her never-ending work.

I usually don't praise the work of a mother in such grandiose terms.  But her work *is* hard.  And her work *is* worthy.

Today, I watched a friend parent her child through an incredible public tantrum without losing her cool or giving in.  I have watched this same friend work her way through the grief process after the death of her daughter without crumbling into the pain or pushing away her loved ones.  I have seen her plan a week full of exciting activities and events for her son, despite the fact that it will require much energy and time on her part.  I have received favors from her, even during her most exhausting weeks of early pregnancy.  I have watched her grow in her relationship with God in the face of some of the greatest tests of faith I've ever witnessed.

Through it all, especially today, I have been so proud of her.

She is a mother, and she's a freakin' amazing mother at that.  She is strong.  She will endure.  And I love her.